


Got the Guts

by conceptofzero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5881267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kakah didn’t do much schooling past Gr 8, but over the years, he’s had nightmares sometimes that he would be out on a job and run smack-dab into Ms. Graac and remember that he still owed her his last homework assignment. This is the first time he’s felt something even similar to that in the waking world, chucking a loaf of bread in his grocery cart and turning around to find Itchy behind him, grinning up at Kakah.</p><p>--</p><p>AU where the Felt are frog-aliens and Doc Scratch sends them back to their home planet when their contracts are done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same universe as Dress Rehearsal Rag. 
> 
> This fic uses alternate names for various Felt members, similar to the above AU's use of alternative names. This mostly impacts Itchy and Quarters.
> 
> Written for Ray who wanted to be destroyed emotionally.

Kakah didn’t do much schooling past Gr 8, but over the years, he’s had nightmares sometimes that he would be out on a job and run smack-dab into Ms. Graac and remember that he still owed her his last homework assignment. This is the first time he’s felt something even similar to that in the waking world, chucking a loaf of bread in his grocery cart and turning around to find Itchy behind him, grinning up at Kakah.

“Hey big guy-” He starts saying before Kakah just shoves a hand in his face and pushes Itchy out of the way, abandoning his cart as he heads for the exit. Kakah makes it three steps before he’s there again, butting up against Kakah’s side like an unwelcome cat. “Heeeey! Quarters! Long time no see! Where’ve you been hiding? Some swamp somewhere with the bucktooth twins?”

“Fuck off!” He snarls and keeps moving. Kakah didn’t have to put up with him anymore. He was a free man, let out of his contract, and that meant that he didn’t have to humor this fast-talking asshole or answer to that shitty awful name. He wasn’t part of the Felt and he wasn’t going to answer to that fucking Q-name any longer. 

“Woah-ho-ho! What’s with all the hostility? I’m not working for ol’ cueball anymore if you think that’s what this is about. I’m a free man!” Itchy follows Kakah right outside, grinning as he zips around him, not minding all the stares (which he SHOULD). “A free man buying groceries who ran into an old co-worker and just wants to say hey! How you doing stranger? Hold up any good banks lately?”

Kakah grabs Itchy by the collar and yanks him away from the parking lot full of people and down along the side of the building, until they reach the back. There’s some kid on her smoke break here but soon as she spots Kakah, she packs up her shit and goes back inside, giving Kakah plenty of space to slam Itchy up against the wall. “You fucking listen to me, Itchy-”

“Keor,” he says and oh FUCK, great, now Kakah knows this asshole’s real name. He made sure not to learn anyone’s name, he took pride in not knowing them and leaving the Felt without so much as a single address or a promise to write or whatever. But now he knows it. Keor- Itchy just grins like he’s so fucking clever. “And I know yours-”

“What do you fucking want?” Is this blackmail? If so, it’s the shittiest blackmail because 1) Kakah doesn’t fucking care who knows what he used to do and 2) Kakah’s going to kill Itchy right here and now, then he’ll find Keor’s partner and kill them too. “I ain’t fucking paying you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Uh, actually, I was thinking more about you and me doing something to keep it open, if you know what I mean.” Keor looks eagerly up at Kakah before mimicking sucking a dick. Kakah’s taken aback, loosening his hand. Keor takes that as permission to lean in closer. “C’mon big guy. Just a quick hook-up now that we’re not working together anymore. Nobody’s going to know.”

This is a bad place to do this. Somebody could walk out of the store at any time. … Then again, who gives a fuck? It’s not like Kakah can’t find a million other places to shop. He lets go of Keor and starts fumbling with his belt. Keor grins like the asshole he is.

As soon as Kakah’s got his dick out, Keor drops to his knees, getting a hand around the shaft. He’s got a nice good grip, stroking Kakah without any pointless talk about how big Kakah is or how impressed or fucking whatever. They both know he’s got a big dick, he doesn’t need a play by play. All he wants is for Keor to get to it, and he does. 

Kakah keeps an eye out to make sure nobody heads down there way, but he’s pretty quickly distracted when Keor’s fist heads down to the base of his cock, and he gets his hot, wet mouth over the head. “Fuuuck, that’s it.” 

That shiteating grin is still present on Keor’s face, even when he’s got Kakah’s cock interrupting it. He starts working his mouth down on him. For a small guy, he does a lot better than most would. But this is Itchy, and he knows that Itchy spent most of his time on that shitty multicoloured planet wrapping his mouth around any fucking dick he could. He’s such a goddamn slut and it’s paying for Kakah as he watches Keor suck down inch after inch, barely even gagging as he gets it down. 

There’s people around them, out of sight but loud enough to be heard overtop the greedy slurping noises Keor’s mouth makes. Kakah grins a little as he thinks about somebody coming out the back of the store on their break and getting a good look at Keor facefucking himself on Kakah’s cock. He’s got himself nearly down to the base already, sucking that shaft down into his throat like it’s no big deal. 

This is good, but Kakah wants to see him get it all down, so he gets both hands on Keor’s head, shoving him down that last inch. It’s so fucking good watching as Keor’s eyes get all big and he finally gags. He doesn’t push off though - he keeps on swallowing and sucking, even as his body throws a fit about having a cock cut off his airways. And as soon as Kakah lets him up, Keor pops his mouth off the shaft and rubs his face over the dick, laughing to himself. “Fuck man, I should have sucked you off earlier. You should have let me.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Kakah growls out, but he’s thinking about it now. It would have been pretty good if they hooked up when they were both part of the Felt. Maybe Kakah would have had a better time if he’d had a mouth like this to fuck whenever he was bored. But the Felt had been such a fucking drama-fest that fucking probably would have made it worse. It’s better that he can just do this now, get his rocks off, and then never see Keor ever again. 

Keor grins, licking a long stripe up Kakah’s cock and getting his mouth back on him. He unzips his own pants too, and Kakah gets a show as Keor jerks off while bobbing his head up and down Kakah’s shaft. Keor grunts all the while, his eyes focused up on Kakah’s face. He’s not a real fan of the way he’s being looked at, so Kakah just gets a hand back on Keor’s head and keeps thrusting into Keor’s mouth. It makes for a good little hole to fuck, especially since Keor’s mouth is too full to bitch about anything. 

“I should tie you up and leave you back here,” Kakah shoves deep into Keor’s mouth as he starts talking, liking the way Keor feels when his whole body’s tensing up, “I’ve got rope in my truck. It’d be easy to put you here, go in and tell some of those employees to come back and get a free blowjob.” 

Keor mutters around Kakah’s cock, sucking him even harder. That’s probably a yes. Kakah holds him down on his cock, cutting off his air and feeling him squirm. Keor would probably love to kneel back here and have a dozen fuckers treat him like a portable gloryhole. He waits until he feels Keor tap on his thigh before he lets him off, taking it all in as Keor grips his cock tighter and gasps for breath. “Fuck y-yeah,” he coughs and spits, his chin covered in drool. Keor just nuzzles Kakah’s cock again, panting happily. “Y-yeah, yeah, you’d like watching that too, huh?”

Maybe, but he doesn’t say as much. He just shoves his cock back in Keor’s mouth and forces the mouthy fucker’s head up and down. It won’t take too much longer, not when he hasn’t gotten laid in a while, and not when Keor’s a master at sucking. He ends up turning them, shoving Keor up against the wall and fucking his mouth steadily. Keor fucking loves it, the only sound louder than him beating off being the sound of his wet mouth sucking hard on Kakah. 

He comes with a harsh grunt, slamming his cock down Keor’s throat and making him swallow it all. Keor does so without a single whine or even so much as a bite. Kakah pumps a load down his throat and only pulls out once Keor’s constant sucking and swallowing gets to be too much for Kakah’s sensitive cock. He steps back and tucks himself in, trying to compose himself. 

Keor lets his head fall back against the dirty bricks, his fist stroking his cock so fast that it’s hard to watch. “Fuuuuck yeah fuck yeah oh fuck yeeeah!” He moans out and comes too, making a mess on the pavement in front of him. Keor’s laughing as he finishes, looking like a mess. 

Kakah glances down the alleyway to make sure nobody’s coming near them and that the cops haven’t been called. Pretty good so far. He glances back down at Keor, who’s already putting himself away and zipping up. “You’re disgusting. Stay the fuck away from me.” 

“I loved it too, big guy. See you around Kakah!” Keor beams and heads out, leaving Kakah leaning up against the alleyway. He feels weird - satisfied but also pissed off about the way it all went down. Kakah does his fly back up and thinks about his abandoned grocery cart. He’s still got to buy groceries and head back to his apartment. Or should he leave? Keor knows he shops here now. He could find him again… 

Fuck that, why’s he being a paranoid asshole about this? So Keor knows he shops here? All that means is that they might bang again. It’s not like this is going to end up being anything more than a one-off fuck probably. 

And if Keor thinks otherwise, then Kakah will just make things crystal clear that he ain’t interested in being anything more than an ancient co-worker.


	2. Chapter 2

That plan goes straight to hell when Kakah opens up his front door to grab his paper and finds Keor lounging on the front porch. He clacks his beak with irritation and snatches up his paper. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“I’m asking you the same question. Did you know you’re in the middle of a swamp? I had to stop and ask your hillbilly neighbours for directions because you decided you didn't need a mailbox with a name on it.” Itchy scratches himself, leaning precariously on the front porch rail. He looks like he’s wearing the same clothes he had on when Kakah saw him at the grocery store, and that was a few days ago. That’s disgusting. He’s disgusting and he’s still on Kakah’s front porch. Keor, predictably, is more concerned with the neighbourhood. “I saw a snake hanging in a tree on my way over here. What the fuck was that about? Are they afraid of the alligators?”

Kakah isn’t sure what he’s more angry about - that this shithead was talking to his fucking neighbours, or that his neighbours actually guided him over here. He’s seeing red either way and he slams his door shut, leaving Keor out on the porch. The shotgun’s in his kitchen and Kakah grabs it, clicking the safety off and turning around-

Only to find that Keor’s followed him in, grinning his little shitty fucking grin. “Aw c’mon, you aren’t really going to shoot me.” 

It’s real easy to bring the barrel around and to point it straight at Keor’s chest. “You’ve got to the count of four-”

“I dropped by to fuck you.” Keor just leans against the barrel, batting his eyes. He sets a hand on the barrel, stroking it up and then down again, turning that into a fairly obvious jerk-off motion. It looks so fucking stupid, but he’s having a hard time keeping his eyes on Itchy and not the way his hand looks as it cups the single barrel and rubs it in just the right way. He can already picture his dick in Keor’s hand instead. 

Kakah sets his jaw and forces himself to look back up at that shit-eating grin on Keor’s face. He’s going to beat the shit out of him for showing up here. Then he’s going to kick Keor out. And maybe he’ll put a round in Keor’s ass and let him go limping off to a doctor so they can pick rock-salt out of him. That’d be real satisfying. 

Keor looks up at Kakah and sticks his tongue against his cheek, letting his head bob up and down a few times. Kakah clicks the safety back on, dumps the shotgun on the counter with the dirty dishes, and grabs Keor by his waist. It’s all too easy to throw that lightweight mouthy sack on the table and to fumble with his belt. Whatever, he’ll just switch up the order of his plan here. 

Keor crows, yanking on his own belt and kicking his pants off. He’s already half-hard and Kakah scoffs as he realizes that Keor’s ass is glistening. Kakah grabs hold of Keor’s legs and yanks them up, leaning in so he can get a better look at it. “Did you fucking stretch yourself out before you came here?” 

“Uh, no shit? Like this wasn’t going to end with you fucking me?” He waggles his ass at Kakah and that pisses him off enough to nearly drop Keor and grab the gun again. But after that blowjob, all Kakah can focus on is how good it’ll feel to fuck that ass. Keor opens his mouth up and waggles his tongue at Kakah. “Lemme get you hard so you can hurry up and stick it in me.” 

Kakah drops Keor’s legs and spins him around so his head’s hanging over the end of the table. He crams his cock into that open mouth, looking down so he can watch as his shaft pushes past Keor’s mouth and starts into his throat. It makes a nice little bulge as he thrusts in, his hands braced on Keor’s torso to make each one count. Keor’s squirms around, his cock bobbing as his legs scrabble a little. His hands just grab onto Kakah’s hips and pull him deeper, encouraging him to choke Keor with that big cock of his. 

It doesn’t take more than a few of those before he’s rock hard, but he doesn’t stop fucking Keor’s mouth. The mouthy fuck needs a punishment for showing up at Kakah’s house without an invitation. And it’s nice fucking him this way, since Keor can’t look up at Kakah with those smug eyes. There’s nothing but a mouth and a throat and a lean body in front of him begging for Kakah to keep fucking him with all he’s got. 

Kakah ends up glancing down at Keor’s dick, and he reaches up, running a hand past the cock, and grasping Keor’s ass. He’s slick, and when he pushes a finger inside of Keor, it slides in with almost no resistance. It’s a little shocking. “Fuck, you’re wet.” 

Keor talks around Kakah’s dick, and he ends up backing his shaft out of Keor’s mouth to hear him. He looks up at Kakah, shiteating grin plastered all over his face. “I was fucking myself on a dildo on the way over. Those dirt roads feel real great. I’ve still got it out in the car if you want to use it-”

“Shut up!” Kakah doesn’t feel scandalized by basically anything but the thought of this filthy fucking creep getting off while driving down his road fills Kakah with rage, and with the urge to fuck him even harder. He shoves a second finger in Keor and all it does it make Keor moan hard, laughing all the while. “You’re disgusting.” 

“You keep saying that, but you keep fucking me too, so-” Keor starts up, and Kakah quickly shuts him up by getting his cock back inside Keor’s mouth. He doesn’t pull his fingers out of Keor’s ass, but he does wrap his other hand around Keor’s leg, pulling him up so it’s easier to get his fingers in deep and start fucking Keor. 

“You’re gross,” Kakah mutters, his hips thrusting in harder and deeper. Keor’s mouth is amazing as it was the first time, but it’s even better fucking him this way. His throat tightens up just right, and when Kakah looks down, he can see his shaft filling up Keor’s throat. Kakah’s fingers stay in Keor’s ass, feeling how hard Keor squeezes around them. “You probably want three fucking fingers, don’t you?”

Keor mumbles around Kakah’s cock, waggling his ass eagerly. Kakah gives him what he wants, adding a third finger. That finally gets some resistance, and he has to hold Keor still so he doesn’t fall over as he starts trying to wiggle around on Kakah’s fingers. What a desperate slut. 

He can already feel himself starting to strain and though he loves fucking Keor’s mouth, he pulls out of it, and gets his fingers out of Keor’s ass too. They arrange themselves and Kakah ends up climbing up on the table so he can keep Keor upside down, pinned to the table by his shoulders. “You dirty fucking whore.” 

“Yesssss, stick it in me!” He gets a hand up and around Kakah’s cock, guiding it into him. It’s a tight fit, even with his ass pre-stretched, and it feels fucking amazing. Keor and Kakah both moan as his cock sinks in, filling Keor up inch by inch. “Aw fuck yeah, your cock’s so goddamn huge! Cram it in me!”

“That’s what I’m doing, you fucking shitlord asshole,” Kakah snaps back and thrusts the rest of the way in, feeling Keor tight up around him. And after that, he just keeps thrusting, humping away at Keor on top of the table. It’s precarious up here but he doesn’t care, he just wants to get his rocks off. Keor’s the best piece of ass he’s had in months now, perfectly willing and tight and moving in all the right ways. He doesn’t even whine when Kakah starts hammering away, fucking him hard enough to make the table creak. “Fuck, fuck-” 

“Yeah yeah yeah just like that, just like that, fuck yeah, harder, fuck me harder, fuck me Kakah, fucking split me open and come on my fucking face!” Keor talks steadily, running his mouth at the same time as he strokes himself. Despite all the talking though, he comes first, yelling loudly and jerking off on his own fucking face. Kakah thrusts in as he feels Keor tighten up, and he has to bite back a moan as he watches Keor give himself a facial. 

It’s a little too much, and a few thrusts later, he barely pulls out in time to do the same. Keor hangs his mouth open as Kakah strokes himself and comes with a crushing wave of relief. Fuuuck, that feels so good. 

He sets a hand on the wall to steady himself, and of course, this is when his shitty fucking table breaks and dumps them both on the floor. 

It doesn’t hurt much. It’s not like it’s a sharp drop. The real challenge is just not kneeing Keor in the face when they go down, but he somehow avoids it. Keor and Kakah stay where they’ve fallen, the remains of the table under them, and the quiet creaking of the house the only sound (other than their heavy panting). 

Kakah staring up at the ceiling of his kitchen, feeling the orgasm start to fade. The ceiling’s cracked and there’s a spider web in one corner that looks more like a spider apartment building than just a single-spider home. He didn’t even know that was up there. Kakah never looks up at his ceiling. He never has any reason to. 

Now he’s lying on his kitchen floor, his back half up on the broken table, staring at this goddamn fucking spider-filled corner of his home that he was blissfully unaware existed until thirty seconds ago. On the other hand, he’s also just come so he’s not as pissed off about the situation as he would be. He’ll deal with the table later. Another day. Whatever. 

Keor rolls over, leaning over Kakah’s chest, cum still dripping down his face. “You wanna do that again, but upstairs on whatever stained mattress you’re using for a bed?” 

He does. Kakah just grunts to hide how interested he is and reluctantly gets up. He heads for his bedroom, assuming that Keor will end up trailing after him because of course he fucking will. 

Keor does. Somehow, Kakah never gets around to actually kicking Keor out.


	3. Chapter 3

Keor shows up again a few days later. Kakah thinks about threatening him, but before he can open his beak, Keor reaches into the backseat of the car and kicks the door open, letting him see the cases of beer back there. Kakah hates beer runs and he especially hates having to leave his house, so putting up with Keor’s endless rambling for another few hours in exchange for booze and probably head is something Kakah feels like he can handle. Plus, Kakah was going to go fishing for dinner for the next few days, and that’s always better with beer.

He lays down two ground rules once they’re in the boat:

1\. Don’t ever bring another ex-member of the Felt anywhere near Kakah’s home.   
2\. Don’t call him Quarters. 

“Why?” Keor asks about the second one. Thankfully, he doesn’t talk shit about the first rule. Probably because it seems pretty fucking obvious to even him. Keor sometimes talks with those assholes but it’s bad enough that Kakah knows Keor’s name - he doesn’t want to know ANYTHING about the rest of the ex-Felt. 

As for why he doesn’t go by Quarters anymore, “‘cause it ain’t my fucking name, and I hated being called Quarters. I’ve got a name.” 

“I don’t care. Itchy’s as good as Keor.” He says like his opinion matters. The case of beer in the boat is getting low since Keor’s drinking all of it, greedy fucking bastard. He keeps throwing empty bottles into the swamp too. Kakah’s shown him how to drown the stubbies, but he likes throwing the empty bottles on the surface so he can watch them bob up and down on the waters. “It’s all just names.”

He grunts out a disagreement but doesn’t bother saying much about it. Kakah thinks Keor’s an idiot who’s wrong about this and basically everything else, but he also doesn’t give enough of a shit to actually fight over it. Mostly he just wants Keor to shut up and do as Kakah says. 

“The other guys don’t mind much. Fin still goes by that. But I would too if my name was-” Keor’s quick but Kakah’s burning desire to never, ever learn anyone else’s names is even quicker. He drops his pole and gets his hand over Keor’s mouth, silencing him violently enough to make the boat rock unsteadily. 

“Don’t. Don’t fucking tell me any of their names. I don’t want to know ‘em. I don’t want to see ‘em. I don’t want to think about ‘em at all. We don’t work for the Felt anymore. I’m retired.” He bites his sentences off, making sure they’re short and to the point. This ain’t an opinion thing where Keor can talk about whatever his bullshit views are. “This is a new ground rule. Rule #3 - don’t tell me their fucking names.” 

Keor mumbles something and starts licking Kakah’s palm. Gross. Kakah knows exactly where that mouth’s been. He gets his hand off and wipes his palm on his pants leg, dunking his other hand in the swamp to fish his pole back out. Keor opens a fresh beer and drinks some to clear his mouth out. “You bitter about working for the Felt? It was the best time of my life. Free food, free board, weird aliens to fuck, and a whole ton of money to get me out of debt when we got back here. It was great.” 

Kakah scowls down at the water as he realizes his bait’s been taken and there’s nothing on the hook. Fucking asshole shithead fish, always stealing his bait when he’s busy. “I’m not bitter, I just don’t fucking wanna know anybody’s names. That shit’s over.” 

Keor rolls his eyes, taking a long pull off his beer. Kakah half expects him to start mouthing it like it’s a dick, but for once, Keor has some restraint. He just holds it loosely in one hand, giving Kakah a who-cares sort of shrug. “Alright, whatever you want. If you don’t want to talk to them, that’s your choice.” 

He grunts a little, acknowledging that yes, it is his choice. Kakah grabs one of the remaining beers, scowling when he realizes how few are left. “If you fall out of the boat and drown, I’m not pumping any air into your shitty little lungs. And if you get eaten, I’m going to laugh. 

Keor scoffs, squinting down at the murky waters. “You’re sour as shit. When are those fish going to start biting anyway? We’ve been doing this for an hour or something now.” 

“They’re fish. They bite when it’s quiet. So shut the fuck up.” Kakah grumps, pulling his line out of the water to check on his bait. It’s still there, though it looks like something was nibbling on the far sides. Probably the same asshole who stole his first bait. He casts back out, the soft PLUNK of the hook falling through the water surface the loudest sound in the whole swamp, aside from Keor. 

He expects Keor to launch back into some sort of pointless shittalking, but he doesn’t. Instead, after an incredibly loud moment involving him getting settled in and using the bait box as a little table to put his feet up on, he just stays silent. Kakah waits for him to do something, since there’s always some kinda fucking punchline, but he doesn’t. Keor just kicks back and relaxes, like he’s not a hyperactive shitlord who can’t sit still for more than four seconds usually. 

It’s fucking weird. 

Kakah nearly opens his mouth to demand an answer, but the moment he parts his beak, Keor looks straight at him, his face wide with an anticipatingly smug grin. He’s waiting for Kakah to speak first, so he can scold him. Kakah snaps his mouth shut and goes back to fishing. Like fuck is he going to speak first. 

He shouldn’t have even brought this asshole along with him. Why’d he let Keor in the boat anyway? He glances over again, watching Keor’s throat bob as he sucks down some of his beer. Oh, right. That, and the case of beer he showed up with. 

Kakah’s going to have to put a stop to it sooner or later though. He can’t let Keor get some fucked up idea that this is something that’s supposed to keep happening. The booze and sex are great, but Kakah wants the Felt out of his life. He wants everyone out of it. Keor’s only getting a temporary pass in, but that’s going to end sooner or later. Once Kakah gets fed up, he’ll shut it all down, kick Keor’s ass to the curb, and that’ll be that. 

Eventually, he’ll miss being alone more than he’ll miss whatever the fuck this is. 

Keor stays quiet until they head back, bucket full of fish. It’ll be a pretty good little dinner. And hey, one plus to Keor being here is that Kakah doesn’t have to gut all these goddamn fish by himself. The little mouthy bastard can help out.


	4. Chapter 4

Keor’s got a sports car that he says he got with his money. It’s an ugly looking thing, squat to the ground with the world’s tiniest fuckign windshield. but Keor says it flies like a demon when he gets it going. But it’s not built for the rough roads leading into the swamp, and after having to get the fucking thing towed twice, Kakah starts giving Keor rides in his pick-up. It’s not as fast (supposedly - Kakah’s never seen that fucking car move faster than any other car) but it’s dependable and it can get them out of the mud and most importantly, it’s got a closed cab. 

Or it’s supposed to but Keor keeps rolling his fucking window down. Kakah gets fed up the third time he does it and lets in half a dozen mosquitoes. He yanks the truck to the side of the road, leans over, and forcibly rolls up the window. “Knock it off!” 

“It’s too hot with the windows rolled up!” Keor bitches, waiting for Kakah to get finished rolling it up before he grabs onto the crank and deliberately yanks the window down three inches. “No wonder your truck always smells like sweaty balls.” 

“If you don’t like how it smells, get the fuck out and walk!” He snaps and yanks the window back up. And since he’s sick and tired of Keor fucking with it, he yanks the crank off the window, taking it with him. Kakah throws it on the floor by his feet and gets moving again, yanking the truck back onto the road proper. 

Keor rolls his eyes but stays in his seat, fiddling with the little bit of metal sticking out of the door where the crank goes. “You’re such an asshole. If you didn’t have such a big dick, I wouldn’t bother coming out here.” 

“I didn’t invite you to come out. You can stop anytime you want.” Kakah grouses back. It’s hot in the cab but it’s worse when the bugs get in and start biting. He’d rather sweat than get eaten alive. Anyway, it’s not like they can get a good breeze going down this road. There’s deep ruts where the cars usually drive and its muddy from the recent rain, so you can't tell how deep some of those ruts really are. 

Keor fans himself with a crumpled hunk of newspaper Kakah's used to patch a leak in the ceiling. “Whatever, it’s not like anything interesting happens in town. Everything’s boring now that prohibition is over.”

Kakah grunts. He doesn’t really notice or care. Things changed while he and the rest of the Felt were gone, but his house was the same, more or less. There’s only one real difference he’s noticed. “It’s easier to buy booze now.”

“Yeah. But I miss the old stuff. Nothing kicks like bathtub gin.” Keor turns and fans Kakah a little. The breeze isn’t unwelcome. It would be nice to have something to push the air around, like a fan or something. Or some sorta vent that could let the air in while filtering out the bugs. Keor switches the fan back to himself and Kakah notices it missing this time. “The paint thinner probably wasn’t too good on the liver, but fuck was it great for getting you drunk. Do they make moonshine out this way?”

“They make it, but you’d hate it. Getting pissed in thirty seconds is like fucking and coming in thirty seconds.” Kakah says, before he remembers he’s talking to Keor. 

“Hey, as long as it’s fun for me, who gives a fuck if anyone else is having fun?” The shit-eating grin on Keor’s face is becoming too family. Kakah doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want anything to become familiar. But… he supposes if he’s got to have some asshole in his space all the time, Keor’s probably the most tolerable. 

Kakah reaches in his coat pocket and pulls out his flask, offering it to Keor. “Don’t drink too much too fast. It’ll fuck you up quick.” 

“You’re a fucking gem.” Keor prompt tips it back and takes a big swig. Kakah snorts, knowing that Keor will regret it as soon as he tries to stand up. It’ll be worth wasting moonshine just to watch Keor fall right on his face. 

“So uh. What’s in the box in the back of the truck?” Keor asks, and when Kakah grunts a little, he prods him in the side. “What do people even keep in those things? Booze?” 

“Ropes and tires and tools and shit. Stuff to get you out of a pinch if the truck breaks down in the middle of nowhere.” Kakah lies. It’s not like he doesn’t have that stuff. But Keor doesn’t need to know what’s in the box. He’d only put his grubby fucking hands all over it and mess her up. 

“Really? That’s fucking boring.” Keor says, and drinks more of the moonshine. Kakah will probably have to carry him when it’s all said and done. That might be kinda fun to see how fucked up he gets.


	5. Chapter 5

There’s a strange car in his driveway when Kakah comes home. His eyes narrow at the sight of the stubby fucking thing. It doesn’t look like a tax man’s car or something the police would drive, but who knows, maybe those pigs have realized that their vehicles of choice easily give them away. It might be some lost hillbilly’s city cousin, or some salesman selling vacuums or snake oil, or any of a dozen other unwanted visitors. 

Kakah pulls into his yard and parks in his usual spot, killing the engine and slamming the door. He grabs the shotgun from the rack in his truck and goes to see which salesman or government official is about to get the fright of his miserable little life. 

As he comes around the car, he gets a better look at the front of it. Someone’s gone and drawn fucking teeth on the grill. They’ve made a face between that and the headlights, only the grill’s set so high up on the front that it looks fucking stupid as shit and makes the car a million times less intimidating. Kakah stares at this wreck of a car, the idiot grin and the bugged out headlight eyes, and he knows exactly what kind of idiot would ruin a perfectly good car by putting fucking fake teeth on it. 

Fin or Trace is in his house. And he has a pretty good idea how either of those assholes found his place. 

He looks at the shotgun, debating if he should go in full-cocked or not. It might be worth it to see the way that fucked up jaw opens up just before Kakah blows his chest wide open with two shots. Except Keor would throw a fit about it, and he wouldn’t blow Kakah and he’d probably yell about how Kakah was an anti social idiot who can’t keep friends because he keeps killing them and he doesn’t want to have that conversation again. 

Kakah reluctantly puts it back in the cab of his truck, snapping his beak irritably as he does. Fucking Keor. That shitty goddamn stupid fucking idiot’s gone and invited one of those sharkfaced fuck ups to his place. He knows it. He fucking knows it. It’s so obvious. 

As he stomps up the porch, he can hear laughter from the other side of the house. That’s Keor laughing his ass off, and as Kakah opens the door of his house, he hears the uncomfortably familiar voice of Fin telling some fucking idiot joke. “-so it’s slipping out and everyone can hear it and then-”

“Oh my fucking god, in front of his bosses? Holy shit! Hahaha! That fucking idiot!” Keor cackles. Kakah stomps towards the sound of them. They’re in the kitchen, sitting at the new table Keor made Kakah buy for the house, because for some reason he refused to fuck on the old table, even though Kakah had repaired it and reinforced it and it wasn’t going to break again but fucking whatever, he wasted his money on a new one just so he could keep getting laid. Keor grins and raises a beer, “Heeeey Kakah!” 

“Hey Quarters.” Fin says and Kakah grinds his beak together at the sound of his old name coming out of that toothy fucker’s stupid face. “Nice place.” 

“Get the fuck out of here.” He snaps at him. There’s a beer in front of Fin and he yanks it away from him, slamming the last of it down. Fin looks at Keor and Keor’s quick to wave a hand no, as if this is his fucking house and his decision. “I didn’t say you could invite anyone!” 

“Calm down, Fin was doing a favour for me and you. He brought a case of vodka out.” And Keor jerks a thumb to the counter, where the cardboard box is sitting. It’s his favorite brand, and Kakah looks between the two of them, eyes narrowed. What the fuck is this? “You want another beer Fin?”

“Sure, sounds good.” Fin leans back in his chair (the spare chair, or else Kakah would shove him out of it too). “Trace figured you were dead or something since we hadn’t heard from you since we got back here. And Sawbuck bet that you’d gone further south to the edge of the world, but I figured you’d just be back in the swamps, since you hate everyone.” 

“Fuck off, and fuck you.” Kakah smacks Fin upside the head while he heads for the box of vodka. He rips up one of the cardboard flaps, yanking out a bottle. Cap off, thrown on the floor, bottle up to Kakah’s mouth, and two big drinks down the hatch. Keor’s grabbed beers for him and Fin, handing one to Fin and grabbing his seat again. It’s Kakah’s chair he’s in, so soon as Kakah stomps over, Keor gets up. Kakah grunts and sits down, only to end up with a lap full of Keor. “Get the fuck off of me!” 

Keor doesn’t, staying right in Kakah’s lap and grinding down against his dick. Kakah’s tempted to shove him off on the floor, but it feels good having Keor rubbing up against him, so he lets him keep doing that, keeping his vodka clenched close. And while he works on Kakah’s dick, he gets back to talking to Fin. “What happened next? Did the vibe fall out?”

“Of course it fucking fell out.” Fin’s already cracking up and he launches back into some story about Trace embarrassing himself right in front of a bunch of mob jackoffs. Kakah doesn’t care, but he tolerates having Fin in his house since he’s got vodka and Keor’s ass hard at work against Kakah. He’s half tempted to push Keor up on the table and fuck him right here in front of Fin.

But Fin might think that’s an invitation and urrggg. He’s already got enough problems with Keor always showing up to hang out at Kakah’s house like it’s a fucking clubhouse he’s paying dues to belong to. The last thing he needs is Fin showing up and thinking that Kakah tolerates him, or can stand anything about the fucking idiot. 

He’s half-tuned out when Keor starts laughing like mad, and Kakah glances over again, finding Fin looking at him. “What?” He says, and gives Keor a whack on the back to make him shut up and get back to getting him hard. 

“I just asked if you guys picked one out yet or if you were going back and forth about it still, because you know how Itchy is, and we all know how you are, so...” Fin says. Keor keeps howling, chest on the table, laughing his dumbshit ass off like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all day and they just heard a story about Trace shitting out a vibrator. Kakah’s look of confusion gets Fin to sigh and go, “Nevermind.” 

“Nevermind what? What?” Kakah demands an answer, first from Fin, and then from Keor, who just keeps laughing. He falls out of the chair, right out of Kakah’s lap, and just laughs on the floor while Fin snorts with irritation. “What the fuck’s so funny?” 

“Nothing’s funny, he’s just being an asshole. This is why you’re never going to have a charm.” He tells Keor on the floor. Keor just keeps on cracking up. 

“If you’re not going to tell me, you can get the fuck out now!” Kakah snaps and Fin rolls his eyes again. “Move!” 

“I’m going, fucking cram it. I’ve got a dinner to go to anyway.” Fin just finishes his beer and puts the bottle aside. “Fuck you Itchy. I’m charging double next time.” 

“Hah! Try it! I’ll get Sawbuck to drag his fat ass out here instead!” Keor says and Kakah slams a fist on the table, getting everyone’s attention.

“Nobody else is coming out here! This is my fucking house! Anybody else comes here and I’ll shoot them in the face!” Kakah points a hand at Fin. 

Fin makes a face, but he’s got more brains than Itchy because he doesn’t sass back or roll his eyes. “Nice seeing you again too. Always a pleasure.”

“Fuck off.” Kakah snaps at him and Fin leaves before Kakah follows him outside to get his shotgun. Once he hears the front door slam, he looks down at Keor on the floor. The skinny shithead is still laughing like it’s a big ol’ fucking joke. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Make me!” Keor grins. Kakah’s cock is hard from being ground up on for the last twenty some minutes, so he stands up and shoves the chair away. He kneels down on the floor, tucking his knees on either side of Keor’s chest, and yanks his fly down. Kakah grips his cock and holds it out so Keor can see it, and so the dick-hungry shithead can start salivating about it. “Fuck yeah, that’s what I’m-”

He doesn’t need to hear this. Before Keor finishes, Kakah just leans down and shoves his dick into Keor’s mouth. One hand ends up on the floor to steady himself as he sinks his cock into Keor’s mouth, and starts working it into his throat. The angle’s not great, but with Keor on his back, it means Kakah gets to set the pace and he pushes in as deep as he can stand. It feels good having Keor wiggle around underneath him, thrashing somewhat as he buries his dick right down that fucker’s throat. 

Keor’s choking on it and it feels so good, having his throat and mouth both squeeze tight around Kakah. It has to be taking air away from him, but he doesn’t bite or claw at him. He just keeps his head back on the floor and behaves like a good fuck hole should. 

“Don’t you ever, fucking, invite anybody here again.” Kakah tells him, thrusting into his mouth hard. Those skinny hands grasp hard on Kakah’s thighs, digging in. He’s still urging Kakah to fuck his mouth, even as he’s suffocating on a dick. He’s a sick little bastard, and Kakah enjoys that about Keor. “You bring anybody in, I’m going to kill them, and then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk and I’m going to throw you in the fucking swamp.”

Keor says something around his dick, giving an open-palm slap to Kakah’s thigh, and he pulls out of Keor’s mouth without thinking about it. While Keor catches his breath, Kakah stays looming above him, one hand above Keor’s head, and the other holding onto Keor’s face to keep it turned upright, so he can go right back in soon as Keor’s got his breath caught. 

“Y-you k-know,” Keor spits and coughs and smiles, smug as ever, “I-if you don’t w-want me to do it again, y-you shouldn’t promise me amazing s-sex.” 

“Fuck you,” Kakah says and Keor just laughs, right up until Kakah shoves his dick back into Keor’s mouth. It’s good. It’s fucked up how good it feels to fuck him like this, lying on his back on the floor. He digs his fingers into the planks, the other clenching onto Keor’s cheek as Kakah thrusts down again and again. The mouth is hot and wet and he sucks hard and swallows and chokes and feels fucking great. He pushes in deep and holds himself there until there’s another of those open-palm slaps on his thigh, a reminder that he better pull out or Keor will pass out and then he won’t get his dick sucked anymore. “This is why nobody fucking likes you!” 

Keor just laughs and he squirms underneath Kakah, the little shit trying to rub his dick up against anything he can reach. “Yeah? Then w-why are you telling m-me not to invite anybody over? If I weren’t here, n-nobody would be coming around.”

“That’s the way I fucking like it!” Kakah snarls and Keor just laughs, and it’s too much. He gets up and grabs hold of Keor, throwing him over his shoulder and dragging him upstairs. Keor shoves his hips right up against Kakah and starts thrusting away, humping him even before they hit the first stair. 

They don’t actually make it to the bedroom. He gets to the hallway and Keor squirms enough to get his knee against Kakah’s dick, and then he gives up, shoving Keor up against the wall and just grinding against him. It feels good, fucking better than it should, just rubbing his bare, wet dick all up against Keor’s belly. Keor’s cock is hard too, and the fucking pervert clearly got off on being facefucked on the kitchen floor. He’s disgusting and Kakah enjoys it more than he should. 

He enjoys everything about Keor more than he should. 

Keor’s got his legs around Kakah’s hips, clenching tight as he thrusts up again and again, smearing precum all over Kakah’s clothes. Nobody’s been doing anything to touch him until now and he’s clearly desperate for it, probably ready to come right away. It’s fucking pathetic how much he wants it and how easy he is once he gets it. All Kakah has to do is get a hand on Keor’s dick, barely even rubbing against him, and Keor’s face’s face starts twisting up in just the right ways. “You’re so fucking easy to wind up.”

“Yeeeeah,” Keor gasps out and grins, hips pumping forward. It rubs against Kakah and feels great. Keor holds on tight to Kakah’s shirt, his other hand finally grabbing onto Kakah’s dick and stroking him. They’re both fisting each other, jerking one another off fast as they can. Keor’s voice is thick and scratchy from getting throatfucked and there’s something about the sound of him that just winds Kakah up even more. He did that to Keor. He’s the one who made him sound like he went seven rounds in the ring. “You too. I knew Fin s-showing up here would make you lose your mind.”

“You piece of shit, I should fucking throw you out,” Kakah says but he doesn’t really mean it. He should, but he doesn’t. Keor made him mad on purpose but he’s so hot under the collar right now and he’s ready to come and it feels so fucking good fucking in the hall when he’s pissed off, and then his hips are hitching hard-

And he comes before Keor, gasping out as he feels his senses blotted out by that great fuck-yeah feeling of an orgasm ripping through him. He’s still got a hand clenched around Keor but his rhythm is all fucked up and after a few weak pumps, Keor’s slapping at Kakah’s hand desperately. “Move move move! You’re fucking it up!” 

He finally lets go of Keor and sinks down onto his knees. It’s only Keor’s iron grip on his shirt and those legs around his waist that keep him up, his free hand now desperately beating away on his cock. Kakah watches idly through the haze of coming as Keor jerks himself off at a furious pace, coming all over the both of them with a thunderously loud moaning. 

They both stay there against each other in the hall, the hard fast panting giving away to slow in and outs. Their clothes are filthy and covered in jizz and he should really push Keor off and go shower.

Instead, he ends up thinking back to Fin sulking off, and what he’s said. “What was the joke?” 

“What?” Keor says, not moving from where he’s fallen against Kakah’s chest. “What joke?”

“The fucking- the thing you were laughing at, when Fin got pissy and left. What was it?” He asks. Keor doesn’t seem to remember, face furrowed up. Then he does, and he cracks up again. Kakah prods him. “What’s the fucking joke?” 

Keor finally manages to stop laughing long enough to put a hand on Kakah’s chest, look up at him, and say, “He asked me what charms we were in.” 

Kakah blinks. What charms they’re in? … oh. That-

That fucking idiot thinks this is a relationship!? Kakah and Keor, in a-

That’s enough to finally get him laughing too, cracking up hard enough that he has to turn and put his back to the wall so he doesn’t fall over. Fin, that moron, thought this was- what, a charmed relationship? A commitment? It just makes Kakah crack up even harder and Keor’s laughing too, and they’re both losing their shit on the second floor of the house, too fucked up to even think about moving this to the bedroom. 

A charmed relationship. That’s the funniest fucking thing he’s heard all day.


	6. Chapter 6

He gets his chance to see exactly how fucked up Itchy get when a night of usual drinking gets out of control. It starts with whiskey and vodka instead of the usual starter of beers, then from there, it escalates until they break out the moonshine and get fucking trashed on it. 

It's more than Kakah would drink but he's learned how to pace himself after years of ending his nights unable to even walk or passing out with what’s probably a minor case of alcohol poisoning. Keor, on the other hand, doesn't have the slightest clue where to start and he drinks way too much way too fast. It's kind of funny really watch him go from buzzed to fucked up in less than fifteen minutes flat. Kakah should probably stop it but he doesn't. The only way to learn is if Keor learns the hard way. 

Plus, he's been a real dick about some shit lately, so he really deserves to get some kind of comeuppance.

“Holy shit,” Itchy’s eyes can't even focus anymore, but he tries anyways, blinking over and over again to bring the world into focus. It's pretty clear that is not working because the more he blinks, the more his eyes look in the wrong direction. “Holy fucking shit. What’s even in this shit? Fucking poison?” 

Kakah just barks out a laugh as the fucking idiot can’t seem to even find his glass anymore. It's always funny watching the smug shit get his just desserts. Now he’s the one who can’t manage to stay on top of things. “Paint stripper, mostly.” 

“Paint stripper- you could use this to strip fucking anything. Eeeespecially me.” He’s too drunk to look straight ahead but he manages to put together a punchline anyway, the fucking shithead asshole. It’s enough to make Quarters mad, though not for long. Mostly because he’s drunk too. Maybe drunker than he’s been in years. 

“Everything gets you naked,” Kakah scoffs, raising a hand to wipe at his forehead. He had a couple extra shots of moonshine then he normally would. Kakah couldn’t let Keor show him up, couldn’t let the little fucking lightweight think he was drinking an impressive amount. So he’d had a few extras and now everything below the waist is sort of hazy and he’s starting to sweat hard. But he’s still more together than Keor is, and that’s the only thing that fucking matters.

Keor grins broadly and his hands go to his clothes. Kakah watches as he struggles with his buttons, unable to get them undone, or to even figure out where the seam on his clothes is so he can get them open. The grin fades, giving way to a frustrated scowl. “I can’t even get my shirt off. This is fucking awful.” 

“You’re weak as shit.” and he eyes up the bottle, tempted to take another, just to show Keor up. But when he lifts his hands, he finds that he’s got trouble deciding exactly how far away the bottle is, and he decides to skip it, rather than embarrass himself in front of Keor. He’s feeling better than Keor right now, he doesn’t want to ruin that with a tipped over bottle. 

He watches the world’s shittiest striptease instead. Keor gives up on his buttons and tries to just pull his shirt over his head, but he can’t find where his pants start and the shirt ends, and then when he does, he can’t figure out how to untuck it. Kakah laughs when Keor just somehow manages to elbow himself in the face when one hand slips up and his arm twists in the wierdest way and smacks him right in the nose. “FUCK! SON OF A BITCH!” Keor yells even as he falls out of his chair and onto the floor, rolling around there while Kakah laughs and fucking laughs. “SHUT UP!” 

“You’re a fuck-up!” Kakah shouts back but doesn’t move from his chair. He’s pretty sure he can only stay sitting up if he doesn’t lean too far forward or to the side. “Why are you trying to take your shirt off?”

“I’m trying to seduce you! Ungrateful piece of shit-” Keor rolls around some more and he’s getting his shirt dirty. The floor still has mud on it from earlier today, when they came in after fishing and Kakah decided he didn’t want to take his boots off. It’s dry and hard now and it probably feels rough as fuck to roll all over, but Keor does it anyway. He probably can’t feel it now, but he will in the morning. “Help me out!” 

Kakah scoffs. “No. I’m having fun watching.” 

“Fuck you asshole! I’m not sucking your dick!” Keor spits out and finally manages to roll over to the cupboards, which he uses to yank himself upright. He ends up with his back planted against the warping wood, his hands resting aimlessly on his chest. 

“Good! You’re too fucking drunk to stand, I’m not letting you anywhere my dick tonight. You’d forget what you’re doing and fucking chew on in.” He snaps back, and with his back firmly planted against the chair. It creaks a little, uneasily, like it’s trying to decide if it wants to spill Kakah on the floor. But it hasn’t yet, and he trusts that it still won’t. 

Keor makes a face and Kakah’s really enjoying seeing that smug shit finally get his. But, just as he’s really enjoy lording it over him, there’s a look that comes sneaking over Keor’s face, a smug smile that Kakah already doesn’t like. 

“You can’t get it up, can you? You’ve got whiskey dick!” That smug look get bigger and Kakah scowls furiously. “You do! Your dick isn’t working!” 

“Fuck you, my dick’s working! I’ll show you!” He lurches forward, grabbing hold of the table to pull him up while one hand goes for his fly. He only realizes his mistake as he keeps lurching forward, past the table, straight to the floor as his legs gently give out and he falls like a rotting tree. Kakah hits the ground hard, knocking the wind out of himself, and managing to also smash his hand into his balls. The pain is overwhelming and he just lies there, unable to breathe, everything below the waist simultaneously not-there and also full-of-pain. 

Keor, the shithead, just laughs and laughs from where he’s leaning on the cupboards, until he falls over onto the floor again. It’s only the pain that keeps Kakah from crawling over to Keor and killing him.


	7. Chapter 7

There’s a toothbrush in the bathroom. Kakah is half asleep so when he sees it, he spends entirely too much time looking at it, trying to figure out where the fuck it came from. It’s not his - he doesn’t have teeth and even if he did, he wouldn’t fucking brush them. So how did it get here?

He’s still staring at it when Keor stumbles into the bathroom, moving sleepily as he spits in the sink, grabs the toothbrush and crams it in his mouth. Kakah watches as he heads straight for the shower, putting the pieces together a little too late. “Toothbrush,” he mutters furiously.

The pipes shake and squeal as they turn on and start spitting water out. Keor shoves himself underneath, leaving the shower curtain open as he scrubs at his teeth and washes himself with the other hand. The fucking brush is in Keor’s mouth, because it’s Keor’s brush. He brought a toothbrush into Kakah’s house. 

“Toothbrush,” he says louder and with more rage. Keor grunts and sticks his head under the steam of water, spitting into the tub. He isn't getting the reaction he wants, so he adds more words. "Why do you have a toothbrush?"

"Uh because I have teeth? And I want them to stay in my mouth? Kinda important. What, you want me to lose them and give you a gumjob, because let me tell you: overrated." Itchy says this all with the the brush still tucked in his cheek, using both hands to wash his junk, not that he needs more than one for that. 

Kakah still didn't get a answer so he's forced to add more words to his question and he's incredibly pissed about it. "Why do you have a toothbrush in MY bathroom?"

This gets a no brainer look from Keor. "Because I like to brush my teeth after I've been eating ass. Your asshole isn't as bad as some people's but it's still an asshole." 

He punctuates that statement with another spit into the tub.

Kakah is still pissed, but part of him reluctantly admits that it makes sense. He hadn't thought about Itchy needing to clean his mouth out, but now that he is, he wants to never, ever think about Keor's mouth, or what it's been doing to Kakah's various body parts. "That's disgusting."

"Then you're welcome that I give enough of a fuck to keep my teeth clean." He grins at Kakah and gets out of the shower, slamming the toothbrush back down in the counter. "Don't worry, I won't slip you tongue until I've brushed each time."

"Don't fucking ever put your tongue near my mouth." Kakah makes a face at the thought of kissing anybody, especially Keor. 

Keor grins and flicks his tongue at Kakah. "I'm going to stick it between both your cheeks."

Quarters puts his hand on Itchy's face and shoves him away from him. Fucking gross. He glowers at it once more before he heads out of the bathroom. It feels wrong letting it stay there but it's this or a far worse fate. Anyway, it's only practical, so it's not like that asshole is trying to move in. This is still Kakah's home and he's still the one and only person here.


	8. Chapter 8

For someone who has his own apartment, Keor spends a lot of time over at Kakah's house. He's there more nights of the week than he is gone. It starts to be weird when Kakah wakes up and that asshole isn't around. 

Today is one of his days alone. He wakes up with Keor gone and ends up lying in bed for only a fraction of the time he usually does. He gets up when there's no reason to keep sleeping, making his way downstairs in the his cleanest smelling pair of underwear. Breakfast for one is a few fried up fish and the ends of a loaf of a bread with some mayo. The fridge is getting empty and he grunts with displeasure at the thought of going shopping to fill it. It's one of the few things he misses about working for the Felt. He didn't have to shop for food and he also didn't have to wash his clothes, or buy new ones. That shit was so convenient. Now he's stuck doing it all manually and he hates it. Maybe he could get a maid but that would mean having to let a stranger into his home on a regular basis and he doesn't want that. Keor's the only one he can stand letting in, and that's because he's better than a maid. 

Though, now that he thinks about it, Keor's been good about washing their clothes together, and about filling the fridge up too. He keeps stealing money to do it, but it's not really stealing if you constantly loudly announce your intentions. Kakah hadn’t really been paying too much attention to all of that, but now that he’s realized it, it’s hard not to think about it more. 

He heads out to the garage to start working on his truck, only to find it gone. There’s a pylon in it’s place with a note taped on it - GONE SHOPPING, BACK SOON, DON’T DIE ASSHOLE.

With his plans for the day missing (and when Keor gets back, Kakah’s going to tear a strip off that asshole for touching his truck), he ends up sitting out on the back porch. He’s got a coffee full of whiskey and he’s feeling pretty cranky about everything. Keor’s really starting to act like he’s got a right to the place. He took Kakah’s truck, he takes his money, he buys the food he wants to eat, he sleeps in Kakah’s bed all the time, insists on going out fishing and hunting with him, he’s fucking everywhere.

It’s almost like they’re dating. 

Now that’s a thought Kakah doesn’t like at all. He sours as he drinks his coffee, turning the facts over and over in his head. How the fuck did this happen? It was supposed to just be fucking, but they’re a couple in all but name. Fuck, Keor even makes them go out to eat outside of the house, like it’s a date. What the fuck? How did he miss it? You don’t just start accidentally dating someone? Keor would have noticed-

That’s when it hits him: none of this is an accident. He’s looking at it the wrong way. Kakah wasn’t planning on this being a relationship, but Keor must have. At some point, that sneaky fuck had grandfathered Kakah into dating him. How long had he planned it? When they first fucked? Was this some kind of insane long con to- to what? Get in Kakah’s home and take anything useful? He didn’t have anything worth taking. And he’d stuck around too long for that so… what? Did he think Kakah was going to love him? 

The thought it too infuriating for him to think about it in any detail. He stands up, chunks his mug into the swamp, and storms back into the house, heading upstairs. Kakah starts with that fucking toothbrush, and then the rest of the shit that all just ‘happened’ to end up at Keor’s house - the changes of clothes, the extra pair of shoes, Keor’s smutty books, his disgusting sex toys, even the dishes he bought after bitching about Kakah’s being ‘too gross’ for him. All of it goes into a box and that box goes on the table in the hall while Kakah waits for him to drag his ass home. 

It’s late afternoon when Kakah hears the sound of his pickup as it rattles down the road to the house. He’s upstairs, fuming as he throws shit into garbage bags, and soon as he hears his truck coming, he goes downstairs to wait. 

Keor isn’t even ashamed when he walks in, and why would he be? He thinks this is all okay. Keor shoots Kakah a shit-eating grin, dumping three bags on the floor. “Hey fuckface, I got us some eggs and flour and shit so we can get drunk and batter up some fish for frying. Or are you in a sulky mood ‘cause I took the truck-” 

“Are we fucking dating?” Kakah demands. It’s almost worth it, just for the look of surprise on Keor’s face. 

“Uh. Well, I mean. Pretty much. I wasn’t calling it dating, but we’re basically doing it. Which hey, that works out because I ran into Crowbar today and look what we’ve got!” He digs around in his pockets, pulling out a folded envelope and shoving it in Kakah’s hands. “I’ll grab the rest of the shit while you read it. I already RVSP’d for us, so we don’t have to do anything except maybe get ‘em a gift.” 

“What the fuck-” are you talking about, is what Kakah wants to say, but as soon as he gets halfway through, Keor’s gone back out to the truck, leaving Kakah standing alone in the hall. The envelope’s already been opened, so he unfolds it and yanks out the two cards inside. 

The first off-white card cordially invites Keor Phrra to attend the marriage of Cra Kerokero to Snowman, followed by the date, time and other useless fucking info for a wedding that he’s never going to. Kakah’s filled with rage looking at Keor’s last name, knowing that he’ll never be able to forget it now. He knows Keor’s full fucking name. 

The second off-white card has the exact same message except they’ve written Quarters where his name should go- no, they did, but somebody’s crossed it out and written in his full name- Kakah Groogar. That’s Keor’s handwriting. He put Kakah’s name down. So now Crowbar knows Kakah’s real name. All he can see is red as he looks at his name on the invitation. Keor shared his fucking name with Crowbar, which means they think it’s okay to share it with others. And now Keor thinks this means that they can be ‘official’ and go to a wedding as a date and stand there and smile and-

“So yeah, they’re getting hitched and you know it’s going to be a trainwreck since they’re having an open bar and the rest of the ex-Felt there. I figure we can get fucked up, watch some good fights, and then go fuck in the back of Crowbar and Snowman’s honeymoon car before they drive off in it-” Keor runs his mouth the moment he walks into the house, setting down the groceries and trying to stroll in deeper. Kakah makes sure to snag him by the collar and drag him back, slamming him up against the nearest wall before Keor’s thinks he’s ever going further in ever again. “-uh, or we can fuck instead if you want. I’m up for some rough stuff, unless you’re pissed about the pick-up, in which case you know it’s too wet out there for me to take my car-” 

“We aren’t fucking dating. We aren’t going to this fucking wedding.” Kakah punctuates both of those sentences by jabbing Keor in the chest hard enough to make the weaselly little snake wince in pain. “This is MY fucking house. This is all my shit! You don’t live here! You don’t have a fucking right to touch my truck or give out my fucking name to those assholes!” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Keor glares up at Kakah , giving his chest a rub. “I was picking up groceries for you, asshole. Fuck, fine, I’ll go to the wedding alone. I only got you an invite because it’d be boring without you, but if you want to stay in this swamp and sulk, fucking go for it. And I never said we were dating-”

“You moved your shit in here! The clothes, your shitty car, your fucking toothbrush!” Kakah snarls and that gets a laugh out of Itchy like this is funny instead of fucked up. “I know what you’re doing! You thought you could just sneak your way in here, one item at a time-” 

“Sneak my way in? To what? This shit shack?” Keor spins his arms around, gesturing to the peeling wallpaper walls and the stains on the ceiling. “Oh shit, you caught me! You figured out my evil plan to find a way to live in a fucking swamp in a house that’s falling apart! I just couldn’t stand living in a nice, tidy apartment when I could be here, showering in this rundown hovel!” 

Kakah feels baffled for a moment, but then it quickly turns to indignation, any logical point Keor’s making overruled instantly. “Fuck you, if you hate it so much, why don’t you leave? Just go to fucking work or something and leave me alone.” 

It’s Keor’s turn to look upset before he can manage to hide the expression. For some reason, it’s not as satisfying as Kakah wants it to be. His eyes narrow and then he’s the one up in Kakah’s space, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Dunno if you noticed, but since we were gone, they ended prohibition and got rid of my job! Now the only people who want fast drivers are bank robbers, and we don’t have Doc to make sure I get out of jail anytime soon-”

“That’s not my fucking problem!” Kakah shoves Keor away from him, pushing harder than he need to. Keor stumbles back, and Kakah feels for a moment like maybe he’s fucked up somewhere along the line, like he should say something… “You can go be fucking jobless somewhere else. You don’t need to sit around my house and waste my fucking money just because you wasted all yours on that useless fucking car! Fuck off and go whore your ass out with someone else!” 

“Whore my ass out? Is that- holy shit, are you kidding me? Are you for fucking real? You’re going to try pretend this was me whoring myself out?” Keor laughs, the sort of ugly, nasty laugh Kakah’s more used to hearing directed at whoever the Felt’s latest victim was. “This wasn’t whoring and we both know if. We were dating. We were basically fucking dating and we have been for two months now, because whores take their money and leave, but I never took any payment from you, and you were fucking glad to have me around to break up your tedious goddamn life. But hey, if you’re too much of a chickenshit to call it that, that’s your problem Quarters.” 

“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME QUARTERS!” He lashes out and hits Itchy, knocking him out the door. Keor goes down the steps, landing on the swampy ground. There’s silence as they look at each other and the lack of any sound is deafening. There was a line there and Kakah stomped right over it without looking. 

Keor gets to his feet slowly, brushing himself off. He doesn’t say anything. That’s the worst part - he’s quiet and it’s terrifying. Keor just turns his back on Kakah and walks away, back over to where his stupid fucking car is parked. 

Kakah watches until he catches himself staring after Keor like- like this is his fault. He snaps his beak shut and slams the door, storming back inside. Kakah turns the radio up loud to drown out the sound of Keor starting his car up, even though he can still hear that stupid shitty engine roar as it starts up. Kakah grabs the bottle of vodka and takes a long pull from it, not stopping until he can’t hear Keor’s car anymore. 

When the sound’s gone and so’s the vodka, he smashes the bottle against the wall and leaves the glass in a pile on the floor. At least he knows it’ll still be there come tomorrow because he won’t have Keor touching his fucking shit anymore. 

“Good fucking riddance,” he says out loud, because it feels like something he needs to say out loud, “I didn’t fucking need that leech around here.” 

Kakah takes some comfort in them before he realizes he’s talking to himself. Then he just sulks off to the kitchen to get another bottle to drink from.


	9. Chapter 9

Kakah wakes up at quarter past three. The sun’s tried to creep into his room, kept out by the curtins. It’s the first time he’s slept this late since- It’s the first time in months. 

He turns over and closes his eyes again. Fuck getting up. It’s his home, he can sleep in as late as he wants. He can sleep through the whole day if he wants. It’s his home, his money, his fucking life. 

Kakah sprawls out over the bed and he doesn’t notice the extra space at all, except to think about how lucky he is to have it all back. He deserves this. He fucking earned it, and nobody’s going to take it away from him.

* * *

Breakfast is whatever he can scrape together from last night’s leftovers. The fridge is empty except for condiments and a few containers that might have been there from before he joined the Felt. He’s not going out shopping today, just like he didn’t go out yesterday or the day before. He’s got plans to sit on the couch and drink, like he has for the past five days straight. 

When things get rough, he’ll go out to the swamp and hook something. Or else he’ll drink another bottle for dinner and call it quits. Kakah always gets by and he does it without anybody’s help or concern. He doesn’t fucking need anyone else. 

It’s fine. He likes it like this.

* * *

He comes across one of Keor’s socks when he finally washes his clothes. It’s muddy, probably from the day that they were out fishing and Keor fell into the swamp. 

Kakah throws it in the garbage. Whatever. What’s he going to do, mail it back to Keor? He doesn’t even know where Keor lives. He doesn’t even know how to call him, not that he wants to, not that he’s ever going to want to. 

It’s just more trash cluttering up Kakah’s home. So he throws it away and doesn’t think twice about it.

* * *

There’s the sound of a motor coming towards Kakah’s house and he grits his beak. It’s fucking Keor come back to beg to be let in, the little shitdick. He’ll probably have food and booze and some fucking whiney explanation why Kakah should break down and forgive him. 

He won’t. Kakah’s happier without him. First thing he’s going to do is tell him to go the fuck home and maybe break one of those bottles over his head. That’ll teach him. Maybe then he’ll get it through his thick fucking skull that he’s not welcome here, he’ll never be welcome here, and that he should turn the fuck around and never, ever even think about Kakah again.

That’s what he thinks, but then the car keeps going past Kakah’s house. It’s not Keor. Just somebody else. 

It’s fine. Saves him the trouble of kicking Keor off his land.

* * *

He’s not sure what day it is. Kakah stares at the calendar, as if that will give him any answers. It’s the same outside as it has been for months, muggy and wet and miserable. He could call someone and ask for the day. Or he could go into town and find out. 

There’s a break where Keor’s handwriting was on the calendar, where he started writing down things for Kakah - change the truck’s oil, pick up groceries, shit like that. ALL DAY FUCKFEST is on a Friday - why? And then it goes blank and there’s nothing on the next page or the page after. 

Well. Mostly. There’s an X on one of the days but he doesn’t know why. What the fuck is it supposed to be? Why did he put that there and nothing else? 

Kakah rips it down and throws it in the garbage. It stays there a few hours before he begrudingly fishes it out and puts it back up. When Keor comes back, he’ll find out what it’s supposed to be. Keor will tell him. He’ll come back sooner or later.

* * *

Or maybe he won’t. 

Maybe Kakah will keep sleeping in late, keep staying up late, keep eating like shit, keep waiting by the window when he hears a car go by. Maybe he’ll lie on his shitty mattress and stare up at the ceiling and think about how hard it is to sleep without someone beside him. Maybe he’ll go out fishing and miss the sound of Keor’s endless chattering. 

It’s fucking infuriating. What the hell happened to him? He should be happy to get his life back, but instead he’s sitting around his house moping like he just broke up with Keor. And it wasn’t a fucking break-up, they weren’t fucking dating! 

Maybe it was like dating and maybe it was better than any real dating has ever been for him and maybe he even had fun most of the time, even if he didn’t want to admit it but it wasn’t dating. It wasn’t actually dating, because Kakah never actually fucking made it official. He liked it as long as he didn’t have to call it what it really was. 

He sulks out on his front porch, his eyes on the road. Keor hasn’t driven by even once in however many days it’s been since he left. Kakah hates that he doesn’t know what day it is anymore, and he hates that he’s got no idea how to even find Keor to talk to him. He never asked where Keor lived, because he didn’t want to know it. Now he’s kicking himself in the ass because he can’t even show up and yell at Keor for fucking up Kakah’s life so much. 

It’s awful. He’s mad at Keor, and he’s mad at himself, and mostly he’s fucking mad that he can’t fix this one just by ignoring things until they correct themselves. He’s been doing it for weeks now and all that’s happened is that he’s eating terribly, he hasn’t gotten laid, and he’s been slowly forced to accept that he fucking starting caring at some point. 

It’s bullshit. 

And there’s nothing he can do about it.


	10. Chapter 10

Kakah’s headed out to buy more booze when he knocks his hip against the shitty little table in his front hall and knocks it over, everything going everywhere. He usually would leave it where it’s all lying, except his fucking truck keys are somewhere in that mess. He scoops down and paws through the pile to find his keys.

Instead, he comes up with the invitation card with his name on it. He scowls to see Kakah Groogar in Keor’s handwriting. This fucking thing. Why did they even think he was going to go to this shitty fucking wedding? The last thing he can imagine as fun would be standing around, drinking shitty beer, watching Crowbar and Snowman making eyes at each other. The only good thing would be if he had Keor so they could go fuck and-

And-

His eyes go to the information under his name. There’s a date. There’s a time. There’s even a fucking address. There’s everything he needs to find Keor again. 

Except he has no idea what fucking day it is. It might be today. This wedding might be happening in three hours time. Kakah looks at the calendar in the wall, still on the wrong month, and smells himself. He stinks like he hasn’t showered in days, which he hasn’t. Kakah crouches down and digs out his keys from the pile, slamming it and the invitation on the table. 

Here’s the plan: he’s going to shower, dress up in his nicest clothes, stop to get booze (and probably a bottle as a wedding present) and then he’s going to drive straight there and reach it just in time to yell at Keor, eat at the reception, and get fucking loaded. It’s fool-proof. 

And if he’s wrong and the day’s passed by already, well… well he’ll figure that out when he gets there. What matters is that he’s got a fucking plan and for the first time since Keor left, he’s got a direction to go in that’s not just a face-first dive into a vodka bottle. 

Nothing can stop him.

* * *

One thing can stop him - the actual date of the wedding, which Kakah only bothers to confirm when he arrives and finds the hall empty. According to the clerk at the Stop & Hop, it’s the 14th, which means he’s a day early. 

Kakah trashes the snack display, blatantly stealing as much as he can fit in his pockets and hands before he sulks off back to his truck. Fuck it, he’ll just wait here until they arrive. He’s not driving home after he came all the way out here. If that means sleeping in his fucking vehicle, then that’s exactly what he’s going to do. 

And he’s going to drink their fucking wedding present. That’s what they get for getting married tomorrow instead of today.

* * *

He sleeps off his hangover and wakes up just as the cars start arriving. Kakah slouches low in his pick-up truck and watches as the guests come in. The happy couple’s among the first ones, Crowbar smiling so big that he looks like his head might snap in two and fall apart. Snowman looks pretty good, dressed to the nines in some fancy purple number. She’s got a couple of attendants with her who look they’re probably Crowbar’s family or something, pretty looking women dressed in maroon just like Crowbar. It’s disgustingly sappy to watch Crowbar and Snowman walk arm in arm inside the hall. 

The crowd follows pretty quickly afterwards. Most of the Felt’s there, dressed up enough to make Quarters look down at his clothes are start wondering if he should have gone and broken into some upscale tailor’s shop last night. Nah, they wouldn’t have anything his size anyway. Still, he does his best to brush off any crumbs from his makeshift meals and to smell himself to make sure he doesn’t stink too much like booze. 

He’s so busy getting himself sorted that he nearly misses Keor’s entrance. Kakah’s scrubbing at a stain with his thumb and when he glances up, he sees the backside of Keor as he heads inside the doors. Kakah quickly licks his thumb and starts scrubbing even harder, managing to turn the brown stain into a lighter-brown blotch. 

Fuck it, it’s good enough. He gets out of the truck, slamming the door shut behind him. Kakah can’t remember the last time he was nervous but he’s fucking nervous now. This could all blow up in his face and be a fucking mess. He might just end up humiliated in front of the rest of the ex-Felt. Is Keor really worth that kind of risk? 

There’s music coming out of the hall. They must be starting the ceremony. Snowman and Crowbar are getting fucking hitched to each other, and Kakah’s standing in the parking lot, asking himself if he really wants this. If he walks in there, Keor’s going to know how desperate Kakah is. He’s going to probably make demands and shit, like being seen in public together and calling each other boyfriends. Keor’s probably even going to ask him to meet his fucking family. They’re going to have anniversaries and make decisions about finances and wake up in the same fucking bed every goddamn day. 

He’s going to probably ask Kakah to name a charm for them. 

And he can’t imagine anything he wants more. It’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up. 

Kakah storms up the stairs and slams his way through the doors, not caring as they swing all the way open and bang off the walls. Crowbar and Snowman have their hands bound with trove ribbons (pink, orange and blue, fucking figures) and he can see the looks on their faces (Crowbar’s shocked, Snowman pissed) but he’s turning away from them and sweeping his eyes over the crowds. 

And there’s Keor, sitting in one of the back rows, his flask halfway to his mouth and his eyes big as he stares at Kakah. 

“No! No, don’t you dare Quarters-” Crowbar starts yelling but he’s not the boss of Kakah anymore. Plus he’s tied to Snowman so he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. “Somebody gets these off our hands! Quarters! Quarters, I swear to god-!” 

Kakah just storms over to Keor, shoving Sawbuck out of the way and sitting beside him. “You’re an asshole. I fucking hate that you came into my life and fucked it all up and now I can’t go back to being happy alone. I used to like being alone. I used to enjoy fishing without company and now I’m fucking bored and I hate it and it’s your fault.” Kakah tells him, voice loud and vicious. He doesn’t let Keor get a word in edgewise in case Kakah stops and actually thinks about anything he’s saying. “Fuck you, you can’t just do that and leave, you fucking asshole. You owe me.”

“What? I owe you a- are you drunk?” Keor sniffs Kakah and wrinkles his nose. “You smell like my grandmother’s asshole.” 

“Shut the fuck up, I’m not done.” He wants to jab Keor in the chest but he keeps his fingers to himself, remembering how badly that went last time. Kakah’s got to make it count this time. “You owe me a fucking charm. Horseshoes, asshole, that’s the fucking least you owe me for making me give a fuck about you.” 

“Are you proposing?” Fin’s in the pew ahead of them, nearly leaning all the way over it as he listens in. Quarters gives him a shove to get him out of his and Keor’s space. There’s an indignant squawk that he’d usually enjoy, but right now, all of his attention is focused on Keor, waiting to hear what he’s got to say. 

Keor hasn’t answered yet. The longer he takes, the worst it is for Kakah. He just wants to take it all back. It’s hard not to grind his beak together impatiently. Keor looks up at Kakah, his face inscrutable. When he finally says something, it’s like a weight off Kakah’s shoulders. “I want a trove.”

Sawbuck sits up where he’s lying on the floor and opens his big mouth to say something. Kakah grabs a purse out of the hands of the lady sitting on the other side of Keor and chucks it hard at Sawbuck, dislodging him from this time and getting that fat fuck out of his way. Crowbar’s still yelling and it’s really annoying because Kakah’s trying not to think about anything too much other than saying what it takes to make Keor take him back. 

“Fuck off with your stupid fucking trove bullshit, fuck. Two charms, nothing more. You can pick the other one.” Kakah counter-offers because he needs to fucking win something, even if it’s just the right to decide how many charms they’re going to have. 

Keor grins, his face splitting wide open into an excited smile. It makes Kakah feel all funny inside. Or maybe that’s the booze and the snacks. “Horseshoes and hearts.” 

“Fuck off. Fine. Fucking FINE, who gives a shit?” He starts griping but it ends pretty fucking quickly as Keor launches himself into Kakah’s lap. It’s so good to have his hands on Keor after weeks without him and it’s all he can do to cram their mouths together, not caring if he ends up cutting Keor up with his beak. He can do two charms, whatever, as long as he’s got Keor, that’s all that matters. 

He’s really getting ready to go at it when somebody cocks a pistol. Kakah freezes and glances around Keor’s head. There’s Crowbar and Snowman, and it looks like Snowman got their hands undone because she’s got her pistol out and pointed straight at Kakah’s head. She’s not fucking around. 

“Take it outside.” Snowman says with just the right amount of menace in her voice to light a fire under his ass. Kakah’s riding high but even he knows better than to fuck with her when she’s like this. She’ll shoot them both dead and get married on top of their corpses. 

“Congrats and shit,” he tells them, wrapping a hand around Keor’s waist and keeping him against Kakah as he stands and carefully gets away from the gun. 

“I uh, before it starts up again-” Matchsticks starts and Snowman swings her pistol over to point at his head. He very visibly reconsiders what he’s about to say and shuts up with a grim sulk. Die scowls as well, though it’s aimed at Matchsticks. Kakah doesn’t care what the fuck that’s about and he leaves that drama behind, Keor against his chest.

“What’s up big guy, you missed my dick this much?” Keor teases, batting his eyes like it’s all a big joke (which is sorta is if he thinks about it). “How about you give me a kiss?” 

“You want me to give you a fucking kiss?” He demands and when Keor nods, Kakah slams Keor on the hood of the nearest car, his hands working on Keor’s belt. “I’ll fucking suck your goddamn dick, huh, how’s that for a fucking kiss?” 

“That’s a hell of a kiss,” Keor lifts his hips and Kakah yanks Keor’s pants down to his knees, getting his cock out. Kakah wraps a hand around it and strokes Keor a couple of times, feeling him start to stiffen up real quick. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Fuck off, it’s not rocket science,” Kakah snaps. Though, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He’s never blown somebody before. Maybe he shouldn’t have said he would do it, but it’s too late to take it back. He said he’d do it, so he’s going to do it. Kakah looks down at Keor’s dick and after thinking it over, he shoves Keor further back on the hood of the car so Kakah only has to bend over it instead of getting down on his knees. 

Next step - getting his mouth on it. He leans in and opens his beak up, sticking his tongue out and giving the dick a few quick licks. Keor squirms and since he likes it, Kakah tries to do some of the shit he knows he liked when getting blown. Kakah strokes the base of Keor’s dick and licks across the head as it pops in and out of his fist. It tastes salty as fuck, and while it’s not a pleasant taste, it’s still better than when Keor snowballs him. At least this time he’s expecting it. 

The best part is the way Keor reacts to it all. His face is all red and he’s huffing and puffing, squirming on the hood of the car. It’s a little funny how turned on he is. Mostly though, it’s fucking hot and Kakah drops a hand down to his own dick, squeezing it through his pants. He’s getting Keor so worked up just by licking him. Keor bites on his lower lip, letting it go after a moment just so he can talk. “Fuuuck, c’mon, get to it man, don’t leave me hanging.” 

Kakah rolls his eyes. Well fucking nevermind foreplay then. He lowers his head the rest of the way, getting his beak over Keor’s dick. It’s hard to suck like this, but he manages to get his tongue dragging up and down the shaft, and he rubs the head against the inside of his mouth, taking in as much as he can. 

Keor gets a hand on Kakah’s head and starts pushing on it, getting him down deep enough that his beak’s pressing into Keor’s stomach. “Aw fuck yeah, fuck yeah, you look good with a dick in your mouth. I only wish I was bigger so I could shove right in your throat and choke you, so you could see how great it is.” 

That gets a bit of an eyeroll out of Kakah but he keeps on blowing Keor. He thought he would hate this shit, but he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. Or maybe it’s that he doesn’t mind doing it for Keor. Fuck, he’s all fucked up over Keor. He’s got it so bad for this skinny asshole. Kakah ends up closing his beak as much as he can and pulls on him, sucking as best he can when he can’t get full suction going. He must get enough because Keor’s hips jerk up into Kakah’s mouth, and then they just keep going, pumping away at Kakah’s mouth.

“Yes, yes, fuck yes, this is great, this is so fucking great, holy shit I love you. I fucking love you.” Keor says and Kakah’s so shocked he nearly jerks his head right off Keor’s dick. But Keor keeps him down, his hands pushing enough to keep Kakah from accidentally popping off. “Uh, fuck yeah, and duh asshole. Why else would we be- aahh, fuck yeah! W-we be troving?”

They’re not troving! … Well. Maybe. Maybe Hearts counts as two. Fucking whatever. He’s not going to say it though. Keor can’t make him say it. And with his mouth on Keor’s dick, he doesn’t have to, so hey, that’s another plus to sucking him off. 

Keor never lasts long, but Kakah’s too busy thinking about their new charms that he misses the signs and Keor thrusts up, and Kakah takes a shot right to the mouth. And fuck, yeah, that’s even nastier than when Keor’s spitting it into Kakah’s mouth. He jerks his head off this time and hawks a loogie full of cum on the ground beside the car. “Fuck! Give me some warning!” 

All he gets is a laugh, no apology, and Keor lounging bonelessly on the truck hood. He grins at Kakah and there’s something soft in that smile… Something that makes even Kakah feel a little something inside, more of those awful feelings. 

He’s expecting another sickening “I love you” out of Keor’s mouth, but instead, he says, “You think they want an encore?” 

Kakah frowns. What the fuck is Keor talking about. Keor nods to something behind Kakah and he turns around. The rest of the Felt (minus Crowbar and Snowman) are sitting on the steps of the hall. Kakah feels himself go dark green. FUCK, they all saw him sucking Keor’s dick. 

“GOOD TECHNIQUE!” Trace yells out and the others laugh. Kakah flushes with rage and storms off towards the pick-up, parked near the back of the lot. “AW QUARTERS, DON’T RUN, YOU DID GOOD BUDDY!” 

“Don’t scare him away assholes, I just got him back!” Keor yells back. Kakah gets to his pickup, his erection straining against his pants as he climbs into the back of it. He unlocks the box in the back, ripping the lock free and yanking it open. From there, it’s a breeze to yank out the other love of his life. The gatling gun’s chambers are oiled and ready to go, and he feels a belt into it, slinging a spare over his shoulders. 

It’s been a pretty good day actually. He’s got Keor back (even if he’s he’s troved now and maybe that’s not so bad but he doesn’t want to actually think about it too deeply) and now he’s going to go shoot at the rest of the Felt, and Doc Scratch can’t yell at him anymore. All he needs is a blowjob to top it off, and he figures that when he’s done here, Keor will be pretty happy to indulge. 

And that just might make it the best goddamn day he’s ever known. Kakah can live with that.


End file.
